


but you've got stars in your eyes

by payneclinic



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Dex is into it, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Nursey is a poet, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 13:16:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6567838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/payneclinic/pseuds/payneclinic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dex finds a notebook of poems Nursey wrote. The poems, in short, have No Chill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but you've got stars in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> *title from What A Feeling by One Direction*
> 
> Read the comic @ omgcheckplease.tumblr.com
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @ chillwhiskey !

Dex isn’t _snooping,_ per se. He doesn’t think it can be considered snooping when the person is in the room with you. Because Nursey is there, sprawled across his dorm bed and scrolling through his phone. It’s a lazy Sunday, too early in the semester for either of them to have any real work to do, and right now Nursey’s bookshelf is a hell of a lot more interesting than the crap reality show he’s got on his TV. It’s mostly poetry books and other novels – some of them were for his classes, but Dex can tell that a couple of them, the really warn-in and battered ones, are Nursey’s favorites that he brought from home. Then there are a couple of notebooks, which Dex assumes are old class notes. He pulls one out at random, but stops when he sees the title.

“Hey, Nurse, what’s _Year One_? Is it some kind of intro class?” Nursey kind of chokes on air as he sits up, but he recovers quickly enough that Dex doesn’t feel the need to chirp him.

“Uh, no. It’s just some things I wrote last year. Poems,” he shrugs.

“Oh, can I read them?” Dex asks. He’s never read anything Nursey’s written, and he’s suddenly curious to see what kind of writer he is. Nursey looks like he’s contemplating pretty hard for a moment before he gives a short nod. Dex flips to a page somewhere in the middle and reads to himself.

_Before you, there was Summer_

_stifling heat pressing in on me_

_the sun’s rays heavy on my back_

_days and weeks and months wasted._

_Before you, there was Spring_

_thunderstorms crashing down on me_

_tornados raging on around me, inside me_

_rain flooding my mind._

_Before you, there was Winter_

_cold, always too cold_

_everything colorless and barren_

_losing feeling._

_With you, there is Autumn_

_fires burning soft and bright behind my eyes_

_soft, warm colors to wrap myself up in_

_and like the leaves, I am_

_falling._

_You will always be my favorite season._

 

Dex has to admit he’s a bit taken aback – he didn’t expect the poem to be awful or anything, but he certainly didn’t expect to like it so much. And he _definitely_ didn’t expect it to be a love poem. He turns the page, hungry for more.

 

_you are not a cliché,_

_and i cannot allow myself to transcribe the odes i hold in my mind to_

_your porcelain skin, alabaster and ethereal,_

_your auburn hair, everglowing, or_

_the constellations on your cheeks,_

_because i cannot possibly describe you with the words that others have used so carelessly._

_you are not a cliché,_

_and you deserve words that no one has put together before._

_you deserve combinations of syllables as ground-breaking as your very existence._

_perhaps one day i will find better words,_

_but i am utterly unconfident in this world’s ability to create words deserving of you._

 

 _Wow, Nursey’s really head-over-heels for someone,_ he thinks. You can’t make this shit up.

“Damn, you had it bad for someone, Nurse,” he chirps. Nursey goes bright red and mutters _chill_ , but Dex thinks he might be addressing himself. He’s intrigued, now, so he reads on.

 

_He seemed to sleepwalk into my life,_

_And I wanted so desperately to wake him._

_But I couldn’t be gentle, no matter how I tried._

_I was rough and wild, grating and harsh._

_I was not sorry. I am not sorry,_

_For when he wakes he is luminous._

_His light does not blind me. It washes over me,_

_Pulls me ever closer to him._

_I am carefully navigating him, now._

_I have gentled myself and reaped the rewards,_

_As his light glows ever brighter._

 

“Wait, so they’re all about a guy?” he blurts. It’s not his finest moment.

“Um, yeah,” Nursey answers, hand rubbing at the back of his neck in a nervous tick that Dex thinks he picked up from Jack last year.

“Do I know him?” he asks, because it’s _very important_ that he know who Nursey is writing all these love poems for.

“Uh, yeah,” Nursey chokes out, “Look, Dex, let’s go get dinner.” He’s clearly dodging the question now, and Dex knows he should drop it but he _can’t_. He needs to know who it is, needs to know if they really deserve these words, if they deserve to get Nursey’s heart, though they so clearly already have it.

 _You don’t get to decide whether they deserve him or not_ , the voice in his head (that sounds disturbingly like Shitty) supplies, and Dex _knows_. He _knows_ that his crush on Nursey doesn’t give him any right to do this, but that still doesn’t stop him.

“Did he live in our dorm last year?” he presses. He takes Nursey’s instant blush and refusal to answer as a yes. “Was he on our floor?” he follows up. Nursey’s head makes a little _thump_ as he knocks it against the wall. He doesn’t get a response until he starts naming guys from their floor – Nursey is very adamant with his denials of every single name that Dex brings up.

“That’s every guy from our floor, Nurse, _including_ my asshole roommate,” Dex half-whines, “Just tell me, please.” The pleading must work, because Nursey sits up and looks directly at him.

“Poindexter, what use is that big brain of yours if you don’t use it? Think about it. Someone who reminds me of autumn. Pale skin. Red hair. Freckles. Someone I used to be too rough with. Someone I’m still trying to figure out.” Nursey’s voice has a slightly desperate, panicky edge to it and it’s so distinctly _not even trying to be chill_ that Dex pauses. It doesn’t make sense. How could Nursey be writing these words for _him_? He can’t really process it. Nursey drops his head back against the wall and runs his fingers through his hair frantically, taking deep breaths through his nose. Dex has _never_ seen him this frazzled.

“Nurs – _Derek_ ,” he starts. Nursey stops everything and looks at him. “I _need_ you to tell me right now who they’re about. Please.”

“You,” he breathes. Dex isn’t the poet here, but he wishes he had the words to describe how Nursey looks right now. He’s beautiful and open and so, so vulnerable. It’s breathtaking. Dex walks over to him slowly, stepping into his space and giving him more than enough time to back out. Once he’s at the edge of the bed and practically between Nursey’s legs, he leans down to rest his forehead on Nursey’s. Nursey is still kind of grimacing so Dex brings his hands up to cup his face and smooth his thumbs over Nursey’s cheekbones. Nursey’s breath kind of hitches at that and that’s all Dex can take before he’s angling both of their faces and leaning down that last little bit to finally, _finally_ kiss him.

It’s not as awkward as Dex thinks a first kiss should be, especially considering the fact that Dex has never actually kissed another boy. Kissing Nursey doesn’t feel like a _first kiss_ , though. It feels like a puzzle piece settling into place. It feels like falling back into a routine. It feels like stepping back onto the ice after the offseason. Kissing Nursey, Dex realizes, feels like coming home. Nursey’s got both hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt and all Dex can think is _please don’t let go_. He pulls back a fraction of an inch so they can breathe, and Nursey takes the opportunity to tug him on the bed next to him. Once he’s positioned where Nursey apparently wants him, he’s got a lap full of Derek Nurse. Nursey buries one hair into his hair and places the other right in the center of his chest. It feels nice. _Intimate_. Nursey can probably feel how wildly his heart is beating and he’s not embarrassed or concerned about it in the slightest. He actually _wants_ Nursey to feel what he does to him. He brings his hands up to settle on Nursey’s hips and squeezes a bit.

“Dex, you don’t even – that’s not even the _beginning_ of the shit I’ve written about you – _for_ you,” he pants between the kisses he’s peppering all over Dex’s face and neck.

“Guess you’re gonna have to read the rest of them to me later, then,” Dex responds. Nursey nips at his lip but Dex knows he’s going to get to hear them all at some point or another. It’s driving Dex absolutely crazy, thinking about how Nursey created such beautiful works of art for him.

“Derek,” Dex groans. Nursey whines a little bit from where his face is buried in Dex’s neck. “Derek,” Dex repeats, a little firmer. He waits until Nursey looks up and meets his eyes to finish. “You’re so fucking perfect.” And it’s probably cliché but Dex doesn’t give a damn. It’s true, and he’s not the poet in the relationship, after all. Nursey’s face goes pink and he drops his forehead down to rest on Dex’s shoulder. Dex can hear him mumbling _chill_ to himself again, and it’s maybe the most endearing thing Nursey’s ever done. He wraps his arms around Nursey and just holds him there, and Nursey sighs, releasing all of the tension from his muscles.

“So, I take it you like the poems, then?” Nursey chuckles.

“Derek, it’s the greatest thing you’ve ever done for me, and that includes that fucking beauty of a one-timer you gave me last year,” Dex shoots back.

“Be more specific, _Will_. I sent a lot of pretty one-timers your way,” Nursey says and _God_ , Dex knows that turnaround’s fair play and all but the way Nursey says his name makes his chest _ache_. He just laughs it off and presses a kiss into Nursey’s hair, because that’s something he gets to do now. Nursey reaches over to his bedside table for the remote and flips it over to Food Network, because Bitty got both of them hooked on Chopped.

They’re going to have to talk later about what they are and who they’re telling and how they’re telling, but that can all wait. For now, he’s got Ted Allen on his TV and Derek Nurse in his arms, and he really can’t think of a better place to be.


End file.
